


Elimidate: Sansa Stark

by jenoftarth



Series: Elimidate: Westeros [2]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Reality Show, Animals, Cheeky nods to book and show canon, F/M, Fluff, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-17
Updated: 2018-05-18
Packaged: 2019-05-08 03:47:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14685795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jenoftarth/pseuds/jenoftarth
Summary: Animal-loving veterinary student, Sansa Stark, is tonight's sexy single on "Elimidate", but will her date go to the dogs? Find out on tonight's shocking episode of "Elimidate!"





	1. Round 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is the second in my series of "Elimidate" fics - a modern AU based around the television show of the same name from the early 2000's. I hope you enjoy it! The tone is a bit darker than the Brienne Tarth episode, but that's mainly because of the quality of the bachelors in Sansa's life. I had a lot of fun writing it, however. I'm only posting Chapter 1 tonight, but Chapter 2 just needs a bit of polish and it will be upon you! Each "Elimidate" fic is a universe re-set, so I may re-use characters in multiple episodes with no carry-over. Oh yeah, and in this universe Robert Arryn is not Sansa's cousin, in case you were wondering.

Sansa Stark was beyond excited. She’d been chosen out of hundreds of girls in King’s Landing to appear on “Elimidate”, her favorite guilty pleasure dating show. She and her roommate Jeyne Poole watched it together all the time, and while Sansa thought most of the bachelorettes were tacky trainwrecks, she was determined to lend the show some class. She was absolutely not going to end up drunk and half-dressed by the end of the show, and she was going to pick a man her parents would be proud of.  
  
Ned and Catelyn Stark had been worried about letting their daughter go so far south to King’s Landing University, but it had the best programs for veterinary medicine. Sansa had recently finished her bachelor’s degree and was about to plunge into vet school in the fall. In the meantime she got by working as a barista at the Dragonpit Mall and volunteered as often as she could at the animal shelter in Flea Bottom.  
  
Her favorite animals were the dogs, but she also loved one very irascible tom cat who’d been found terrorizing people near the Red Keep historical site. Sansa was glad it was a no-kill shelter, because no one was going to adopt that black cat with the torn ear. She’d named him Balerion, after the mythological dragon, and made sure to slip him a treat whenever she visited.  
  
Sansa’s life in King’s Landing was really quite satisfying, except that she hadn’t had much time for dating. Sansa wanted a strong man with a good heart. Someone passionate, maybe even a little intense, if she were perfectly honest. Who knew if she would find that sort of man on “Elimidate,” but she was willing to try.

Sansa arrived at the studio looking so pretty that they didn’t even bother sending her to makeup. Tyrion Lannister, the director and producer, turned out to be a dwarf, which was surprising, but soon Sansa forgot all about his size and was laughing along at his constant stream of jokes and witty observations. Bronn, the executive producer; Hodor, the boom mic operator; and Sandor, the cameraman, would also be accompanying them to location. After filming the little introduction segment talking about who she was and what kind of man she was looking for, they piled into the Elimidate van.  
  
The premise of the show was simple. Sansa would go on 3 rounds of dates. She’d start out with 4 men, but in each round she’d “elimidate” one of the men, until she chose the winning bachelor. She picked the first round venue, but the producers chose the other two. She knew how it would probably go - her choice, night club, hot tub. But she could still act like a lady, no matter the situation.  
  
The first round should give her a very good idea of the men’s personalities. She’d asked them to meet her at the animal shelter where she volunteered. Sansa waited outside the shelter, wearing skinny jeans and sneakers with a pretty lace top that showed enough cleavage to please the production team. She got the feeling the cameraman was pleased too. She’d caught him checking her out, though he quickly looked away. Sansa felt a little sorry for him. He had a melancholy look about him and what seemed to be a burn scar over half of his face.

The first date to arrive looked promising. He had silky golden hair, seemed to be about her age, and dressed nicely. He introduced himself by kissing her hand. “Hello, I’m Joffrey Baratheon,” he said. She could have sworn she heard the director cough “Loser,” but that couldn’t be, could it? In any case, Joffrey didn’t _look_ like a loser.  
  
“Hi, I’m Sansa Stark,” she said. “I’m a veterinary student at King’s Landing University. What do you do?”  
  
“I work in finance,” Joffrey said. “Derivatives, mostly. I won’t bore you explaining it, but it makes a lot of money.”  
  
Sansa nodded politely. She seemed to remember being told that derivatives were risky and endangered the economy, but she didn’t want to offend him, so she just smiled. “That’s nice,” she said. “I hope you like animals, because we’re going to volunteer inside here today.”  
  
“What is this place?” Joffrey asked.  
  
“An animal shelter,” Sansa said.  
  
“Oh,” Joffrey said. A mew of distaste formed on his mouth. Sansa felt disappointed, but before she could think more about Joffrey her next date was arriving.

“What’s all this?” said a man with dark wavy hair. “Are you the man who’s trying to keep me from my future wife?” he asked.  
  
_Well that’s certainly aggressive_ , Sansa thought. _But he probably only meant it as a joke_.  
  
“Hi, I’m Sansa,” she said.  
  
“I’m Ramsay,” he said. “Pleased to meet you, Sannnn-saaa.” He dragged out his pronunciation of her name in a peculiar way. But he was smiling, and he shook her hand politely enough. _So he couldn’t be too bad, right_?  
  
“Ramsay, this is Joffrey. I was just telling him that we’re going to volunteer at the animal shelter today. Do you like animals?” she asked hopefully.  
  
“I love animals!” he said. “Dogs in particular! I have a whole kennel full of them back in the North!”  
  
Sansa’s heart lifted. He liked dogs, and he was from the north. He was fairly handsome, too, if you ignored a sort of wild look in his eyes.  
  
“I have a dog, too,” she said, “Lady. She’s part wolf.”  
  
“Part wolf?” Ramsay looked impressed. “She must be very fierce. I’d like to see your dog some time.”  
  
“Oh, well, sure,” Sansa giggled. “If the date goes well.”  
  
Joffrey had been quiet this whole time and seemed, frankly, bored. His mood lightened, however, when he saw her next date approaching.

“Littlefinger! I don’t believe it!” he cried and started laughing derisively.  
  
“ _Littlefinger_?” Sansa said, perplexed.  
  
The man in question was a bit older than the others, but well-dressed and well-groomed. He did not seem pleased by Joffrey’s greeting. In fact, he was looking at Joffrey as if he were something particularly unpleasant to be scraped off one’s shoe.  
  
“My name is Petyr Baelish,” he said, lifting Sansa’s hand to kiss it. “And you are Sansa Stark.”  
  
“How did you know that?” she asked.  
  
“I have friends in high places,” he said.  
  
“He has friends up on high poles, is what he means,” Joffrey said. “He owns half of the strip clubs in King’s Landing.”  
  
Sansa’s eyes went wide. It’s not that she was a prude, exactly, but owning one strip club, let alone many, seemed a bit extreme.  
  
“Nothing so strange about it,” Petyr said. “The clubs are a lucrative business, and I run them well. And you should know, I keep my business and personal life strictly separate,” he said, looking into Sansa’s eyes.  
  
“There’s nothing wrong with a strip club,” Ramsay said.  
  
“If you can’t get a woman on your own,” Joffrey said.  
  
“And how many women is it you’ve dated again, Joffrey?” Petyr said. It was clear there was some sort of bad blood between these two.

Fortunately before a fight could break out, Sansa’s fourth and final potential date showed up. He didn’t look like much of a match for the other three. He was very slight and pale, and he seemed quite young, barely 18.  
  
“Hi,” he said, extending his hand for what turned out to be quite a weak handshake. “I’m Robert Arryn.”  
  
“Hello,” said Sansa.”Are you from King’s Landing? What do you do?”  
  
“I’m from the Vale,” Robert said. “My family owns a resort there, the Eyrie.”  
  
“Oh, you mean the one that has the moon door bungee jumping experience?” Sansa asked.  
  
“Yes, that’s the one!” Robert said, his eyes lighting up. “My mother doesn’t like me going on that ride, but I sneak away whenever I can.”  
  
“That sounds like fun,” Sansa said. Robert was nice, but she had to admit talking to him was like talking to one of her little brother’s friends. She could probably generate more attraction towards Arya’s friend Hot Pie, for goodness sakes.  
  
Sansa looked at all the boys and men in a row, and wondered if any of them would prove to be a good match. Only one way to find out, she supposed. She turned back to the camera to introduce the date venue for Round 1. 

“Well,” Sansa said, “now that you’re all here I’d like to introduce the King’s Landing Animal Shelter. I’m studying to be a veterinarian, and animals are very important to me, so I volunteer here at least once a week. Today, you’ll get a chance to help socialize the animals, by petting and playing with them. I hope I can get to know you better in our time at the shelter. Come on in!”  
  
Once inside, Dr. Farlen, the shelter director, explained the procedures. “We’re only putting out some of our friendliest animals, so don’t worry,” he said. “Let the cats approach you for petting, or play with them using these wand toys and laser pointers. As for the dogs, we’re going to put them in an enclosure out back where you can play fetch with them, pet or groom them. Thanks for volunteering today!”  
  
“Hound,” Tyrion said, looking at Sandor the cameraman. “Let’s set up with the cats first, then we’ll move over to the dogs. Sansa, if you could stay where the camera is, that would be ideal.”  
  
Ramsay approached her. “Sansa, I’ll go straight to the dogs, if you don’t mind. I’ve never cared for cats,” he said.  
  
“That’s fine,” Sansa said. She liked cats, but she was more of a dog person herself, and at least he was showing enthusiasm for the animals. Joffrey was actually on his cellphone, and Robert seemed afraid to approach the cats. Petyr, however, had walked right into the cat enclosure and already had a soft orange tabby curled up in his lap. _Definitely a cat person_ , Sansa thought.  
  
She walked over to join him, and ended up with a white cat in her lap almost as soon as she sat down.  
  
“I’m impressed,” Sansa said. “You got that tabby in your lap very quickly.”  
  
“It’s just a matter of reading the cat’s body language,” Petyr said. “Animals are very easy to read if you know what to look for. People too.”  
  
_Very true_ , thought Sansa.  
  
Before she could respond, though, Petyr leaned in close to speak low in her ear. “I’m always reading people. You need that to survive in a place like King’s Landing. Everyone is your enemy, everyone is your friend, every possible series of events is happening all at once.” Sansa didn’t know quite what to say to that and wasn’t quite comfortable being so close to him, so she smiled politely, then called to the others.  
  
“Robert, Joffrey, why don’t you join us?” she said.  
  
Robert entered the cat enclosure timidly and sat down next to Sansa. She helped him pet the white cat already in her lap, but he kept glancing nervously at the other cats beginning to circle around them. “Here,” she said, handing him a wand toy, “Just shake this around. The cats will chase it. There’s nothing to be so nervous about.”  
  
Rather than joining them, Joffrey was peering into the cages at the fiercer and older cats. “Look at this ugly one,” he said, pointing at Balerion. “Hey, ugly, too bad for you, you’re stuck in a cage!” He stuck his finger in Balerion’s cage and waved it about. A hiss and a yowl rang out, quickly followed by Joffrey’s high-pitched shrieking.  
  
“This cat _bit_ me!” he screamed. Dr. Farlen came running in.  
  
“You should put that vicious beast down!” Joffrey yelled. Dr. Farlen looked at the others.  
  
“You were bothering him,” Sansa told Joffrey. “Cats don’t like to be cornered.”  
  
Joffrey looked at Sansa as if he was ready to bite _her_ , but Dr. Farlen took him aside.  
  
“Please keep your hands away from the cages, young man.” Joffrey waved the doctor away and walked over to Tyrion instead.  
  
“I need a bandage! You’re the director around here, aren’t you uncle?” Joffrey said.  
  
_Uncle_?, Sansa thought. Other than Robert, no one else seemed surprised by this revelation.  
  
“Yes, I do have that honor,” Tyrion said.  
  
“Then get me a bandage! I’m _wounded_!!!!” he yelled hysterically.  
  
Tyrion sighed deeply but escorted Joffrey to the bathroom.  
  
“Hound,” he said, “Get a few more minutes with the cats, but then let’s move back to the dog run.”  
  
Robert was finally getting the hang of the cat toys, Sansa saw, but she couldn’t help laughing when he backed right into her trying to escape from an enthusiastic Maine Coon who was just trying to rub up against him.  
  
“So, Petyr, what are your interests other than strip clubs and making money?” Sansa asked playfully, hoping there was more to the man. He really had the cat in his lap relaxed and happy. A man with that kind of finesse might make a good boyfriend.  
  
“I’m running for city treasurer this year,” he said. “Someday, maybe mayor,” he added.  
  
“Wow,” Sansa said. “That’s impressive.”  
  
“Everytime I’m faced with a decision I close my eyes and see a picture of what I want. Then, when I make my decision I ask myself will this choice get me closer to making that picture a reality? I only act if it will,” Petyr said, brushing a lock of Sansa’s hair behind her ears.  
  
For a moment she was caught in Petyr’s intense eye contact. It almost seemed that he might kiss her. Then she felt another gaze on her. The cameraman was watching her, and he looked sort of concerned. _Maybe he just wants us to move to the next location_ , she thought. Sansa shook herself out of Petyr’s spell.  
  
“Petyr, Robert, why don’t we join Ramsay in the kennel now?” Sansa said.  
  
Petyr and Sansa coaxed their cats back onto the ground and Petyr gave her a hand up.  
  
Before leaving the cat area, Sansa stopped to give Balerion his customary treat. The old black tom was curled in a corner looking more defiant than ever, but he recognized Sansa and squinted at her. “Poor baby,” she said. “We won’t bring that man here anymore.”  
  
Robert looked over her shoulder into the cage and said “That’s right! We’ll keep the bad man away!” But when Balerion moved to the front of the cage to accept his treat, Robert quickly shied away.  
  
When they got to the kennel, Sansa was a little shocked and Robert actually screamed. Two pitbulls and a bull terrier who had been rescued from fighting pits had been let loose into the play area. Far from being scared of them, Ramsay was hand-feeding them bits of meat that he’d liberated from elsewhere in the shelter. Sansa felt worried for the smaller dogs, who were whimpering in the corner.  
  
“Dr. Farlen!” she called.  
  
Ramsay turned around and grinned at Sansa. “These girls are great,” Ramsay said. “Aren’t you good girls?” he asked, scratching the pitbulls behind the ears. “I wonder if I might adopt a few of these and ship them back to the Dreadfort?”  
  
Dr. Farlen had arrived by then, and he hurriedly pulled the smaller dogs out of the play area and dropped them near Robert, who shrieked again. Sansa, meanwhile, spoke to Ramsay.  
  
“Ramsay, it’s great that you love these animals, and I’m sure we could arrange for you to adopt some of them once they’re socialized. But you can’t just take out any dog and put them in here. They could hurt the other dogs.”  
  
Ramsay kept smiling as if he didn’t quite understand the concept. Dr. Farlen came back and took the big dogs by their collars, leading them back to their pens. The bull terrier growled threateningly. Robert hugged Sansa tightly and burrowed his face into her neck.  
  
“See,” Ramsay said. “She loves me! Don’t worry girl, I’ll be back for you! I think I’ll name you Francesca.”  
  
“Why Francesca?” Sansa asked.  
  
“Oh, she was my ex-girlfriend,” Ramsay said. 

Thankfully the rest of the dog portion of the date went fairly smoothly. While Dr. Farlen took Ramsay aside for a talking to, Sansa was finally able to get Robert comfortable with an adorable King Charles spaniel, and she showed him how to play fetch. It seemed that his mother had never let them keep pets for fear of allergies. Joffrey returned sullen and bandaged. In fact, the bandage was comically huge, having been wrapped around perhaps more times than necessary by a grinning Tyrion.  
  
“All that from a cat?” Petyr remarked drily, looking up from a black lab he was idly scratching.  
  
“I didn’t see you trying to pet any of the dangerous animals,” Joffrey said. “You’re all just playing with a bunch of pathetic kittens and puppies. I should have sent Tommen on this date instead.”  
  
“Yes, you certainly should have,” Petyr said. “But Tommen’s loss is my gain." Petyr walked over to Sansa, wrapped his arm around her shoulder and started whispering in her ear again. Something about ladders that she didn’t quite catch.  
  
When Ramsay finally got back into the mix he did his best to rile up a few of the remaining larger dogs, until Dr. Farlen intervened and asked him to stop again. After that Ramsay seemed bored and retreated into the corner.  
  
Joffrey did make one more half-hearted attempt to talk to Sansa, bragging about his condo near the Red Keep. Then a friendly pug ran up and licked him across the face. “Get back you dirty thing!” Joffrey shouted. He went to the bathroom to wash his face.  
  
“Oooooo! I want to play with the pug!” Robert said, and Sansa laughed. Yes, Robert was a bit childish, but at least he was willing to try. Plus, it was always nice to see the animals getting some positive socialization.  
  
Towards the end of the date, Sandor left the camera and came over to pet a few of the dogs himself. Hodor joined in too, seeming delighted with a miniature schnauzer. Tyrion was outside by the vans talking with Bronn, making sure the liability waivers were in good order, lest Joffrey try to sue over his cat bite.  
  
Petyr stuck close to Sansa and kept directing her attention to one dog and then the other, pointing out the subtleties of their interactions. Sansa was tempted to tell him that she didn’t need a tutorial on animal behavior since she was, after all, a vet student, but his guesses were accurate often enough to be entertaining. So she politely complimented his observations, while occasionally making sure that Robert was feeling safe and Ramsay wasn’t getting into any more trouble.  
  
She also snuck glances at Sandor, who had found the shelter’s oldest dog and was patiently brushing his fur, which often matted. She smiled at the sweet interaction, and when he noticed her watching him, she could swear he blushed a little.  
  
“Alright people, time to assemble in the lobby for the elimination scene,” Tyrion said. “Dr. Farlen, sorry for your trouble. You’ll be getting an additional donation from Lannister Productions. Hound, let’s stop petting your friends and get the camera set up ready. Hodor, you too! Everyone else, take a few minutes to say goodbye to the animals then let’s film this thing. Joffrey, try not to get bit by any more cats on the way out.”  
  
“Ha ha, uncle,” Joffrey said sarcastically.

Sansa had to satisfy her curiosity before they filmed the next shot. After saying a quick goodbye to Dr. Farlen, she caught up with the cameraman.  
  
“Sorry, but I’m confused, why does the director keep calling you ‘Hound’?”  
  
He didn’t seem annoyed by her interruption, thank goodness.  
  
“It’s just a stupid nickname from my family crest, but I do like dogs, little bird. Dogs are loyal. A dog will protect you, and a dog will never lie.”  
  
“That’s true,” Sansa said. “But now I have another question. Why did you just call me ‘little bird’?”  
  
Sandor smiled enigmatically, but said nothing. She clearly wasn’t going to get an answer. “You’d best get back to your dates,” he said. “I’m not sure how you’re going to pick a winner out of this lot, but it shouldn’t be hard picking a loser anyway.” Sansa frowned. It wasn’t very nice of him to make light of her situation, but she had to admit he might be right.  
  
First, there was Joffrey, who had seemed fairly normal in the beginning, but who then had shown no interest at all in animals beyond tormenting them. She laughed quietly when she thought of him being stupid enough to mess with Balerion.  
  
Then there was Ramsay who seemed to really like dogs, especially the fiercest sort. Of course he didn’t show much concern for the rules, and there was something off about him that she couldn’t quite put her finger on.  
  
Petyr seemed ambitious, mature and good with animals, and he had certainly been attentive. But he was a bit too intense for her. She could hardly move 10 feet without him whispering something in her ear.  
  
Robert was harmless. That was the best and the worst thing about him. She supposed it could be fun to visit the Vale. He could definitely hook her up with free moon door tickets. And he had at least tried with the animals. Maybe he was one of those sheltered kids who just needed a little help.  
  
Sansa deliberated quietly for a minute, but in the end it really wasn’t a difficult choice. She signaled to Sandor that she was ready to film the elimination scene.

“It’s been really fun getting to know all of you so far. But I can only take 3 of you with me on the next date. Joffrey, you seem like a really interesting guy, and you’re very handsome, but I need to be with a man who likes animals, and you don’t seem to have any interest in them. So I’m going to have to elimidate you.”  
  
“Pffft. Whatever. I’ve seen better looking girls in one of Littlefinger’s _cheaper_ clubs. Enjoy the rest of your date, _Northerner_.”  
  
“Hey, boy,” Sandor the cameraman suddenly spoke up.  
  
“What do you want, dog?” Joffrey said.  
  
“Who are you calling dog, boy? And where do you get off insulting the lady like that? She was kind to you! You didn’t like animals. That’s a fact. Apologize!”  
  
Joffrey started to walk away, but Sandor actually stood in front of the door to prevent him from leaving. Joffrey then tried to exit by the back door, but Sandor said to the boom mic operator, “Hold the door,” and he did.  
  
“I’ll sue you,” Joffrey said in a petulant voice.  
  
“For what?” the director asked. “How is it going to look in court when Joffrey Baratheon sues a cameraman for asking him to apologize to a lady?”  
  
“Fine,” Joffrey said, turning back towards Sansa. “I’m sorry. Are you all happy now?”  
  
Sansa smiled. It was all so chivalrous. It was just too bad it was the cameraman and the director standing up for her, and not one of her other dates.  
  
“Yes, everything’s fine,” Sansa said. “Sandor, Tyrion, Hodor. I’m fine.”  
  
“Good,” Tyrion said. “Let the boy go, Sandor. Hodor, get the door for our dear friend. Now let’s everyone else get back to the studio for a wardrobe change.”  
  
With that the crew piled into one van with Sansa, while Sansa’s remaining dates were escorted into a separate van by Bronn.


	2. ROUNDS 2, 3 & EPILOGUE

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is at least one book-reader/show-watcher joke in here that when I wrote it, I laughed myself silly. Let me know if you notice it :)

Sansa was having more fun on the ride back to the studio than she’d had on her date at the animal shelter. Tyrion was imitating Joffrey’s whining in the bathroom after Balerion bit him. Hodor laughed contagiously at Tyrion’s imitations. And Sandor, well, Sandor was just nicer to look at the longer you were around him.  
  
He was one of the tallest and most muscular men Sansa had ever seen, and the half of his face that wasn’t burned had character and strength. Come to think of it, the half of his face that _was_ burned wasn’t that bad either, once you got used to it. He didn’t speak much, but when he did his voice had a pleasant deep timbre. So she tried to get him to talk more.  
  
“So how do you know Joffrey?” Sansa asked  
  
“Who says that I do?” Sandor said.  
  
“The way he talked to you. And the way you talked to him,” Sansa said.  
  
“An observant girl, Clegane,” Tyrion called out.  
  
“I used to work security for his family,” Sandor said, sounding a little embarrassed.  
  
“You know how I discovered him?” Tyrion said. “Cersei, my sister, made him take videos at one of Joffrey’s birthday parties. Best birthday video I’d ever seen. It turns out that when you’re used to watching people for a living, you get good at observing things. Good observational skills make for a great cameraman,” Tyrion said.  
  
“There’s nothing special about it,” Sandor said. “Just point the thing at the action.”  
  
“You undersell yourself, Clegane. Of course his bodyguard skills also come in handy when the bachelors get unruly. You might have been a bit more help with those pitbulls, though, Hound,” Tyrion said.  
  
“And miss filming them? You’d never have forgiven me. The girl was safe enough. She has a half-breed wolf at home.”  
  
Sansa smiled, glad that Sandor had been paying attention to her conversations.  
  
“So you have a sister, Tyrion?” Sansa asked.  
  
“Unfortunately, yes,” Tyrion said. “I also have a brother, much more fortunate there. I believe you have several siblings, is that right?”  
  
“Three brothers, a sister and a cousin who was raised with us,” Sansa said. “How about you, Sandor?”  
  
“Oh you’d better not ask about _that_ ,” Tyrion said.  
  
“You wouldn’t want to meet my brother,” Sandor mumbled.  
  
“Oh,” Sansa said. “Sorry. And Hodor?”  
  
“Hodor,” Hodor said.  
  
“He’s an only child, Sansa," Tyrion said. "And not much of a conversationalist I’m afraid. But a great boom mic operator.”  
  
Hodor beamed from the front seat.  
  
Sansa looked back over at Sandor. It seemed like he was purposely avoiding looking at her, and it was frustrating. Before she could think of any more clever ways to get his attention, though, they were back at the studio.

It might have been harder to leave the van, but she had a wardrobe change to look forward to with Shae, the wardrobe mistress and makeup artist. Sansa had sworn she was going to act like a lady on the show, but after trying on a few possibilities they settled on an off-the-shoulder white and red patterned dress with a full skirt and bustier top that revealed quite a bit of her elegant back and the tops of her breasts. Shae found her a pair of cute white heels to match.  
  
“You look lovely,” Shae said. “Be careful with those men, though.”  
  
“Oh, I will,” Sansa said. “But don’t worry, I know Sandor and Tyrion will protect me.”  
  
“Tyrion, ha! Yes, he’s a regular lion,” Shae said, laughing as if at some private joke. “And Sandor, huh? You know his name, do you?” She gave Sansa a curious smile.

Shae, it turned out, had decided to come to the nightclub with them and called shotgun next to Tyrion. This caused space to tighten in the backseat and Sansa ended up pressed close to Sandor, their thighs touching, the bare skin of his forearm brushing against hers. The touch of his skin was doing things to her, and clearly Sandor was affected too.  
  
From where he was sitting, he could definitely see all of her cleavage, and Sansa noticed that he’d started shifting uncomfortably in his seat soon after they left the studio. It was adorable and a bit intoxicating seeing such a strong man appear so vulnerable.  
  
“So how do you like being a cameraman, Sandor?” she asked, smiling up at him.  
  
“Oh, _this_ I’d like to know, too,” Tyrion said, turning around.  
  
“Watch the road T!” Shae said sharply.  
  
“It’s work,” Sandor said. “It would be better work if I didn’t have to film this bunch of idiots we brought on today,” he added.  
  
“Don’t blame me!” Tyrion said, raising his hands up in mock surrender.  
  
“Tyrion! Keep your hands on the wheel!” Shae shouted. “Honestly…”  
  
“I let Cersei do the casting for this episode,” Tyrion said. “Oh... That explains a lot actually.”  
  
“And who would you choose if you were me?” Sansa asked Sandor.  
  
“None of them,” Sandor said. “I’d sooner die of a sword to the gut.”  
  
“Now now, Hound,” Tyrion said. “The correct answer should be ‘I’m not allowed to say.’ We _are_ trying to produce a show here.”  
  
“I wouldn’t worry about that. I’m sure the little bird will chirp prettily at all those curs, whatever I say to her. You were taught well, weren’t you?” he said, scowling down at Sansa now. “You even have pretty songs for me.”  
  
Sansa was confused. He seemed angry at her suddenly.  
  
“Easy, Clegane,” Tyrion said. “Don’t mind him, Sansa. He’s not used to polite company.”  
  
“I _have_ spent the last 7 years surrounded by Lannisters,” Sandor said.  
  
“Touche,” Tyrion said.  
  
Sansa was afraid to speak to Sandor again, but she was even more afraid to leave things on a sour note.  
  
“Why _do_ you call me 'little bird'?” she asked again.  
  
“Because he _likes_ you,” Shae called from the front seat.  
  
Sandor flinched at Shae’s words and moved his arm as far from Sansa as he could. _It doesn’t seem like he likes me much_ , Sansa thought.  
  
Before anyone could say anything else, they’d arrived at the club. 

The van stopped just outside of Chataya’s Nightclub, located on the site of a historic brothel by the same name. Sansa’s three remaining dates were waiting, and Sandor and Hodor set up the shot of Sansa walking towards them.  
  
Petyr looked well put together as usual in a dark grey suit with a bit of a sheen and a silver lapel pin in the shape of a bird. Ramsay was wearing all black except for a very dark red vest. It made him seem a bit like a vampire, but Sansa liked a good vampire story, so that worked. Robert needed some help. She had wondered if the men had a wardrobe mistress too, and now decided they must not, since Robert was wearing a very formal suit and bowtie which made him look like a little boy at a wedding. Still, none of the men looked embarrassingly bad.  
  
Petyr immediately took her arm to lead her in, while Ramsay gave him a dark look which suggested he’d be cutting in later. Robert shyly walked by her other side, making it look like Petyr was his father and Sansa his stepmother. Petyr started whispering in Sansa’s ear again, but Sandor asked him to speak up or they wouldn’t have any usable footage for the show.  
  
“My apologies,” Petyr said. “I was just telling the lady about this club’s colorful history.”  
  
“Aye, maybe you can tell the audience too,” Sandor said.  
  
“Yes, yes, Petyr, be a dear and share your wisdom with the audience, please,” Tyrion said.  
  
These directives spared Sansa from feeling quite so much of Petyr’s hot breath on her neck. She’d be lying if she said it wasn’t a little bit compelling to have a powerful older man so interested in her, but it was a sort of attraction and repulsion situation. One moment she was intrigued, the next she felt trapped.  
  
Once they took a table in the club she was relieved when Petyr went to fetch them drinks, allowing Ramsay and Robert to sit next to her instead. Well, she was relieved until Ramsay started talking, anyway.  
  
“So Sannnsaaa,” Ramsay said. “Do you like to hunt?”  
  
“Oh,” Sansa said. “Not really. But some of my family hunts occasionally.”  
  
“Maybe you just haven’t hunted the right game yet. Come to the Dreadfort with me. I’ll take you on the greatest hunt of your life.”  
  
“Well, I’m studying to be a veterinarian, so I prefer helping animals to hurting them.”  
  
Ramsay seemed to find this very funny and started giggling wildly. Sansa thought it might be best to change the topic.  
  
“Uh… what else do you like to do Ramsay?”  
  
“My father runs the largest taxidermy shop in the North, and I work with him. I do a lot of the skinning. Someday I’ll inherit the shop.”  
  
“That’s… interesting,” Sansa said. Taxidermy was a bit creepy too, but she supposed there were some deer heads and wolf skins in Winterfell, so she shouldn’t be too judgmental. At least Ramsay had a job and was close to his family.  
  
“I took the liberty of bringing some drinks over,” Petyr said, returning to the table with a bottle of wine and four glasses.  
  
“Oh, thank you, Petyr,” Sansa said. He poured for her first.  
  
“I’m going to order a beer instead,” Ramsay said, getting up to go to the bar.  
  
“I’d rather have milk,” Robert said.  
  
“Milk?” Sansa asked.  
  
“It’s all I drink,” Robert said.  
  
“Allow me,” Petyr said. He disappeared with one of the glasses, and returned a few minutes later somehow bearing a wine glass full of actual milk which Robert began slurping down immediately. “There’s more in here if you want it,” Petyr said, setting down a bottle.  
  
“Thank you, Petyr,” Sansa said. “That was very thoughtful of you.” She was grateful for his return, because in his absence she had mainly been entertained by Robert talking about his various trips to the doctor.  
  
Ramsay, meanwhile, had been mostly silent, nursing his beer while seemingly scanning the room for other girls. Once he had asked Sansa if he thought a pretty blonde girl at a far table would be a fast runner, which seemed like a pretty random question. “Yes,” Sansa said, squinting to see her. “I suppose she looks athletic.”  
  
After Petyr and Sansa had each enjoyed a first glass of wine, Sansa decided she may as well see what the men could do on the dance floor. When they got to the center of the floor, Sansa noticed Tyrion and Shae making out in a corner booth. Sansa was glad that at least _someone’s_ date was going well.  
  
Unconsciously, after seeing Tyrion and Shae kissing, she looked right at Sandor, and she swore he knew the reason why. She held his gaze a moment longer, and as she started to dance, moved her hips just for him. But she knew she should at least _try_ with her dates, and reluctantly turned her attention back to them.  
  
The club played mainly upbeat pop music, which didn’t seem to please either Petyr or Ramsay. They mainly swayed awkwardly while she danced. Robert was actually quite an enthusiastic dancer, though, and Sansa laughed as he bounced happily and spun around with her. He knew a lot of the words to the songs, too, although when a new song by DJ Marillion came on he clearly hated it. “Ugh! Make the noise stop!” he yelled. After about 10 minutes of dancing, however, Robert started slowing down all of a sudden.  
  
“I don’t feel so well,” he said. “I’m feeling… a little... sleepy,” he said, yawning deeply. Sansa grabbed his arm to support him, since he looked a bit paler than before, but then Robert actually fainted. Petyr got behind him surprisingly quickly, and managed to keep him from falling to the floor. Ramsay had disappeared to chat up the athletic girl he’d noticed before.  
  
Sansa and Petyr carried Robert over to the booth, while Hodor went to get Tyrion. After checking his pulse, Tyrion declared that the boy appeared to be alive and healthy but in a dead sleep. “How much did the boy drink?” he asked.  
  
“He only drank _milk_ ,” Sansa said. Tyrion looked very suspicious but when he asked to see Robert’s glass it had already been cleared away.  
  
“Fine, then,” Tyrion said. “I’ll have Shae and Bronn take him back to the studio, and we’ll call in a doctor. Clearly he can’t go on the next date. Sansa you’ll have to elimidate him. Maybe you can say something nice about him in your spiel. Sorry,” Tyrion added.  
  
Sansa _was_ a bit sorry. Robert had finally shown her his fun side when they danced, and Ramsay had basically abandoned the date, making him the obvious choice for elimination. Was Petyr her only option? _He_ seemed to think so. He grinned widely at her, and took her arm in his possessively as they walked out to the front of the club to film the elimination scene.  
  
Tyrion was gathering Ramsay up, and Sandor and Hodor followed them. When Petyr let go to hold the door for her, Sandor managed to push through the door too, before Petyr could rejoin her.  
  
“You know, girl, no one says you have to take _any_ of them home,” Sandor whispered gruffly in her ear. This time the feeling of hot breath on her ear was nothing but delicious, and Sansa was sorry when he walked quickly away before she could respond.  
  
Within a few minutes, Bronn and Shae had driven off with Robert, Ramsay had been extricated from the blonde, Sansa had announced Robert’s elimination, and they were off to the last phase of their date, at the Crownlands Bathhouse, a popular hot-tubbing spot.

ROUND 3

Sansa was used to wearing swimsuits in front of men, but she felt much more naked than usual as she entered the hot tub with Ramsay and Petyr. Ramsay’s interest in her seemed to have renewed itself, because he looked like he was practically drooling, and Petyr’s eyes were so intently fixed on hers she felt like he was trying to hypnotize her. She kept her own eyes fixed on Sandor, for courage. When she looked at him he coughed nervously. Her swimsuit was a simple green tank suit, but she knew that the high cut at the hips and the scoop neck of the top accentuated all the right parts. _If only Sandor were waiting in that hot tub_ , she thought sadly.  
  
It wasn’t that her two _actual_ dates looked bad. Ramsay was a young man and somewhat muscular. Petyr was in shape, despite some stray gray chest hairs. However, Sansa entered the tub as far away from both of them as she could. She had no intention of letting this episode devolve into the usual mess of limbs and bubbles in the hot tub scenes. _Let’s get this over with without making out with either of them_ , Sansa thought. _I can still choose one and then politely reject them when they’re done filming. At most she would give them a chaste kiss, no tongue._  
  
Sansa knew the drill. There were a couple of questions people always asked on their dates, and Bronn had prepped her with a refresher list before the night club. She was not about to ask either of them what their fantasies were, so she opted for one of the safer questions.  
  
“So,” Sansa began. “I have to choose one of you as my date tonight. Petyr, why should I choose you and not Ramsay?”  
  
“It’s simple,” Petyr said. “You have been destined for me ever since you were born. Hasn’t your mother ever told you about me? When we were young your mother and I dated. Sadly, it didn’t work out. She chose your father. But the moment I knew you were in King’s Landing, I looked you up, and when I saw you, I knew I had to have you. You are more beautiful than your mother ever was. Sansa, choose me. No one will ever love you more.”  
  
Petyr must have mistaken Sansa’s mouth hanging open in utter shock for some sort of an invitation, because faster than Sansa could close it, Petyr had managed to cross the tub and invade her mouth with his tongue, wrapping his arms around her in the process. Though the kiss was definitely skillful, Sansa was not at all into the idea of sleeping with her mother’s ex-boyfriend, bad enough that she was now being kissed by him. She quickly pushed him off. He backed away, and not a moment too soon, because Sandor had abandoned his post behind the camera and was looming over Petyr, glowering threateningly. Sandor didn’t return to the camera until Petyr had fully retreated.  
  
Ramsay, meanwhile, had used the distraction to edge closer to Sansa and now gave his answer. “Boltons aren’t chosen,” he said. “Boltons choose. And I choose you, Sansa. Return to the North with me and we’ll raise a fine pack of hunting dogs together. These lesser men are merely prey. Boltons are predators,” Ramsay said. With that, Ramsay lunged at Sansa and gave her her _second_ unwanted kiss of the night. But he took things a step farther, giving her nipple a hard pinch through her swimsuit.  
  
“Owww!” Sansa yelled. Petyr didn’t even _try_ to help, instead looking at Sansa lasciviously, as if he was enjoying the show and his inevitable victory.  
  
Before Sansa had to struggle much against Ramsay's strength, however, he was lifted off of her into the air. Sansa looked up and saw Sandor’s face lit with fury. Placing Ramsay back on dry land, Sandor knocked him down with a resounding punch to the face. Ramsay scrambled as if to get up, but Sandor hit him once more and growled “Stay down.” Ramsay grinned through his bloody smile, but remained on the floor.  
  
Petyr then started to cross the tub to Sansa, a faux-concerned look on his face, but before he could reach her, Sandor was at her side, handing her a robe and helping her out of the tub. “Bloody cunts,” Sandor said. “Excuse my language.”  
  
“I don’t mind,” she said, smiling as he took her hand and led her to a bench.  
  
“Alright now, little bird, you’re alright,” Sandor said. He patted her on the shoulder, then moved off to keep a watch on her dates.  
  
Tyrion walked over then, and handed her a bottle of water.  
  
“I'm very sorry, Sansa. I would have never let either of these men on the show had I known. I hope you're alright."  
  
"I'm okay now, thank you Tyrion," she said.  
  
Just tell me when you’re ready for the elimination scene,” he said. “Though I don’t know how you’re possibly going to choose one of these two.”  
  
“I’m not,” Sansa said.  
  
“What?!” Tyrion said. Though he had seemed appropriately distressed by Sansa’s difficulties in the hot tub, he seemed even more distressed by the prospect of not having an ending to the episode.  
  
Sansa smiled at Tyrion, then began whispering her plan. The longer Sansa talked, the more Tyrion seemed to like what he heard. Finally, he nodded and walked off to arrange the scene.  
  
“Hound,” Tyrion said. “I’ll get behind the camera for this scene. You just sit down and rest. You deserve it after keeping the girl safe. As for you two,” he gestured to Petyr and Ramsay. “Bolton, wash yourself up quickly and keep your hands to yourself. Littlefinger… just keep your hands to yourself. You can both stand over there until the lady’s ready.”

Sansa stayed in her swimsuit to shoot the final elimination scene, but kept the robe draped around her. Now that she had come to her decision, she was smiling again. Really it had been so easy once she’d thought about it. She began her final speech.  
  
“Petyr, you’re a very ambitious man, and I will certainly remember your many lessons on getting what you want in life. But I’m afraid I have no interest in someone my mother’s age who also actually dated my mother. Plus, Tyrion tells me they’re pretty sure you drugged sweet Robert’s drink. So I’m going to have to elimidate you.”  
  
Ramsay was all smiles and started to cross over to take his place at Sansa’s side.  
  
“Not so fast,” Sansa said. “Stay where you are, Ramsay. Ramsay, I appreciate your love of dogs, but that’s about it. At the club you left me to chase after another girl, and in the hot tub you thought it was somehow okay to pinch my nipple and kiss me without asking. Plus, you seem to like hunting a little too much. Ramsay, I’m also going to have to elimidate you.”  
  
“So what?” Ramsay said. “You’re choosing Robert Arryn? That weakling?”  
  
“Really Sansa, I beg you to reconsider,” Petyr said. “I would make you my queen.”  
  
“I’m not choosing Robert,” Sansa said. “And I’m definitely not choosing either of you two,” Sansa said. “I’m choosing Sandor Clegane, the cameraman.”  
  
Sansa laughed gaily when she saw Sandor’s reaction to the news, all captured by Tyrion behind the camera. He’d been smiling heartily at the two other men’s disappointment, but now he was struck dumb and sheepish with shock.  
  
“What?” he asked simply. “Me?”  
  
“Yes, Sandor. You. That is if you’ll have me. At the animal shelter you cared for the dog who needed it most and stood up to Joffrey for me. In the van I got to know more about your life and interests. And here, just now, you saved me from two very unsavory men. Will you go on a date with me, Sandor?”  
  
For a moment Sansa wondered if she’d made a terrible mistake. Maybe Sandor was dating someone else or married, although wouldn’t Tyrion have told her if he was? Maybe Sandor thought she was too young for him or just a silly little bird. But no, he’d been staring at her with unmistakable attraction all night. Maybe he just hated attention and wouldn’t want to walk out in front of the camera he was used to standing behind. Just as Sansa began to lose hope and was ready to announce that she would choose no one, Sandor stepped forward and took her hand.  
  
“Aye, little bird,” he said. “I will.”  
  
Sansa smiled, then reached up to touch his face. Sandor stroked her hair for a moment, then bent his head down to give her a gentle kiss. Sansa felt a perfect sense of rightness as their lips met, and when the kiss ended, she was pleased to see that Sandor was smiling too.  
  
“This is ridiculous,” Petyr said. “I’ll fight to keep this episode off the air!”  
  
“Really Baelish? I expected better from you,” Tyrion said. “Second lawsuit threat in one episode. A new record! Read your waiver. And you might want to think about that milk incident before you go making any more threats.”  
  
Petyr left grumbling, but Ramsay just smiled in a sort of disconcerting way.  
  
“See you around Saaaansaaa,” he said.  
  
“Not if I have anything to say about it,” Sandor answered.  
  
Five minutes later, they had found a swimsuit for Sandor, and he and Sansa were enjoying the hot tub in peace and privacy - after they had filmed a few minutes of the two of them making out in a hot tub for the end of the show, of course. 

6 MONTHS LATER

“Sansa!” called Jeyne Poole. “It’s starting soon!”  
  
Sansa was buzzing around the kitchen, preparing snacks for the small gathering at her house. Since the filming of her episode, Sansa had kept in touch with all the crew from the show, so Tyrion, Shae, Hodor, and Bronn were all gathered in her living room.  
  
Of course, her boyfriend, Sandor, was there too. He was over often enough that they were planning to move in together soon. All of Sansa’s friends liked him, and he’d even met with her parents’ approval, once they saw how protective he was of her and how gentle he was, despite his fierce appearance.  
  
Lady trod around after Sansa, catching bites of dropped food as she went. Sansa placed the plate of nachos in the center of the table and sat down on the floor at Sandor’s feet. She wasn’t alone there. She was flanked by two dogs, Lady on her left side and Stranger on her right. Stranger was the old dog from the shelter. Sandor had decided to adopt him a week after filming. Stranger had responded very well to Sandor’s attentive care, and seemed to have a new lease on life.  
  
“This is truly our finest episode ever, Shae. You’ll see!” Tyrion said.  
  
“You never told me what happened at the end, though,” Shae whined.  
  
“Isn’t that a bit obvious?” Bronn asked.  
  
“I know she’s with Sandor now, but who did she choose? I would have picked Ramsay,” Shae said.  
  
“Would you now?” Tyrion asked. “That would have been a rather unfortunate choice since apparently he’s now a suspect in several murders up North.”  
  
“Oh!” Shae shuddered, cuddling closer to Tyrion.  
  
“No!!! Really?” Sansa gasped. “No wonder I thought he was creepy.”  
  
“A definite creep,” Bronn said. “But that sad fucker should do wonders for this episode’s ratings.”  
  
“You dated a _murderer_ , Sansa?” Jeyne asked, wide-eyed with fear. “Just imagine that could have been _me_ if I’d been on the show.”  
  
“It’s okay, Jeyne, you weren’t, and I’m sure you would have picked better if you had been. Anyway, I didn’t really _date_ him,” Sansa said. “I mean, it was all just a game. Except for Sandor.” Sansa smiled affectionately at her boyfriend. She’d never met anyone who made her feel so happy, safe, warm, and at home, even in the chaotic world of King’s Landing.  
  
Sandor simply grunted contentedly as was sometimes his way. Sansa had gotten used to his quiet moments, and no longer minded at all. Just like animals could express so much with their faces or demeanor, she always seemed to know what Sandor was thinking.  
  
“I forgot to tell you, Sansa,” Tyrion said. “I made another trip to your animal shelter yesterday and adopted a pet.”  
  
“You did?” Sansa said. “Wonderful! Which one?”  
  
“A rather special cat. Shae wasn’t sure about him at first, but it turns out I have a way with cranky black tom cats with a thirst for Lannister blood.”  
  
“Balerion!” Sansa cried.  
  
“That’s the one. We kept the name. Yes, I think he’ll make a very effective guard cat. Keep the wrong elements out of the house, you know.”  
  
Everyone who’d been at the shelter laughed, and Sansa smiled. It was good to know that being on this show had not only brought love to her and Sandor, but also to several other animals in need. As the “Elimidate” theme music began to play she looked back up at her strong, gentle and handsome boyfriend and sighed contentedly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I hope you enjoyed it! I'll be putting out future "Elimidate" fics whenever I am in high procrastination mode on my long fics "The Last Feast" (which is due for a SanSan smut chapter next) and "Camp Westeros" (a Jaime/Brienne fic where Sansa appears as a camper and soon-to-be major character - alas, no SanSan though). 
> 
> I want to credit my husband for bringing up the idea of Robert drinking milk at the club and for having Sandor adopt the dog at the end! He is so supportive of my fic-writing habit!
> 
> Thanks for reading and if you have any comments, I'm always happy to read them!


End file.
